"It wasn’t my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it."
Charles Bukowski, Pulp (via homosensuous)(Source: henrycharlesbukowski, via yourfaithfulanchor)
"Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all."
Evelyn Waugh (via thatkindofwoman)(Source: hellanne, via thereverieinrealityy)
"Maybe tomorrow, my absolute insanity combined with the absolute obstacle course of your communication skills will leave us like a love letter in a landfill. But whatever, however, whenever this ends- I want you to know that right now, I love you forever. I love you for the hardest mile we walked together."
Andrea Gibson, How It Ends (via talkaboutourbigplans)(via smilelikeitdidnthurt)
don’t do drugs. do me
do drugs and me.
do drugs with me. and then do me.
(Source: inbox, via smilelikeitdidnthurt)
"
my father always said, “early to bed and
early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy
and wise.”
it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our house
and we were up at dawn to the smell of
coffee, frying bacon and scrambled
eggs.
my father followed this general routine
for a lifetime and died young, broke,
and, I think, not too
wise.
taking note, I rejected his advice and it
became, for me, late to bed and late
to rise.
now, I’m not saying that I’ve conquered
the world but I’ve avoided
numberless early traffic jams, bypassed some
common pitfalls
and have met some strange, wonderful
people
one of whom
was
myself—someone my father
never
knew.
The Stylus: Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
And my heart caves in when I look at you.: The Shower
we like to shower afterwards
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and peaceful
and she’ll watch me first
spread the soap over my balls
lift the balls
squeeze them,
then wash the cock:
“hey, this thing is still hard!”
then get all the hair down there,-
the belly, the…
Wow.
“Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which one fits best?”
- Sylvia Plath
poems, potatoes: For You Alone
As daylight shone through my open window
I write this to you, for you alone
for every ounce of faith I have,
I have in you, for you alone.
And they say you cannot write a poem
without moonlight caressing your soul
as if night itself is the key to your heart.
It is not, for the key…
